Brother's War
by Ravenski
Summary: All is fair in love and war. "Brother's War" won a contest in a Pandora Hearts group on DA. This story is my pride and joy, so enjoy, but not so much that you steal it and claim it as your own. ElliotXLeo Civil War fan fiction
1. Chapter 1: Cowardice

Elliot Breckinridge… soldier… politician... friend… all names given to a man some considered the greatest survivor of the Kentucky 25th Infantry…  
He was a young man, no older than eighteen back in those days… he could recall, on occasion, the day he returned home from the War, and everyone- including his sister, Vanessa Breckinridge- was there to greet him with open and thankful arms… but, alas… he was not happy… and the sorrow never left him… all because, and only... he had worn the blue…

"Stop pushing me around, 'Nessa!", shouted a young Elliot to his sister at their estate in Lexington, Kentucky. Today was Inauguration Day, celebrated in honor of the new mayor of Lexington getting elected into office. The Breckinridge family, considered one of the most prestigious families in Lexington, held their heads high as they prepared for the celebration to be held at their estate. Vanessa sighed, brushing dust off of sixteen year old Elliot. His new suit had just been altered, and she expected everyone- especially him- to look good.  
"Ellie Jo Breckinridge! How aw you supposed to look presentable when 'ur slacks look like they've been in the dust bin?", exclaimed Vanessa, putting her hands on her hips, and with a frown. Elliot turned his head around slightly, obviously angry from her nagging.  
"'Nessa, if I had a dime for every darn second you nagged me about these fancy britches, I'd be richer than King Midas!", said Elliot, crossing his arms. Vanessa sighed again, turning him around to face the hallway mirror.  
"Oh, stop being such a sour puss... come on, look at 'urself! 'Ur what they call dressed to impress, ain't that right, Ellie?" Elliot looked in the mirror and rolled his eyes.  
"Ok, alright… when does the party start, anyway? When Paw gets home?" Vanessa frowned slightly. She moved her hands around Elliot's neck, tying a black ribbon to match his suit.  
"You know, you ought to get a new tie for Mama's birthday… this one is getting raggedy…"  
"'Nessa, I asked you a question!" Vanessa sighed. She placed her hand on Elliot's shoulder, and led him over to a chair to sit. She sat next to him on another chair, looked him in the eyes, and conveyed a serious expression with her hands resting softly on her lap.  
"Ellie…"  
"Taw, I knew it!", said Elliot, turning his head away from her. She touched his arm, and he looked at her again.  
"I'm so sorry, Ellie! We shan't help it if Paw is busy…"  
"Busy… busy, busy, busy! What is he? A honey bee?"  
"He's a senator, Ellie! He'll be caught down over in Louisville until tomorrow night, then we'll see him!", said Vanessa with a smile. Elliot shrugged. He looked at the mirror. Vanessa smiled even more. "I know you were lookin' forward to seeing him… so was I… but Paw not bein' here gives us no reason to slouch around the house like a dog! We've got friends to entertain…"  
"You mean, you've got friends…", said Elliot, glancing slightly at Vanessa, and back at the mirror. Vanessa brushed his sleeve slightly.  
"No, we've got friends… they care about you, too, Ellie, just as much as they do Paw, or Mama, or Ernie, or Junie! They love you, Ellie!" Elliot smirked… he knew it was not true. "Come on, Ellie!", said Vanessa, standing and pulling on Elliot's arm. "If we don't make it in time, Lexington's sure to get whiff of it and the whole town'll be in a ruckus 'cause the Breckinridges are tardy!" Vanessa led Elliot down the stairs, and the two were off to the Inauguration...  
It was 1859...

It was 1859, and as Elliot's life was unfolding... so was Leo's…  
Leonard Drayton, son of Ben Drayton, lived two houses down from the Breckinridges. His father, Benny- as he was often called by townsfolk- was not nearly as well-to-do as the Breckinridges. His house, which was a farmhouse, had dilapidated shingles, holes in the roof, and no toiletry system. The cupboard, almost always bare, contained no more than hard bread from years past, and some milk from the cow Leo was forced to sell some years back, and whose profit came in the form of paying off his father's tabs at the bar in town.  
Leo did not like his father. He was lazy, demanding, and, more than anything… abusive…  
Every night would consist of his father leaving home, going to the bar, filling up on whiskey, and returning with a hard lip, asking only for one of two things: money for more whiskey, if he was still sober… or money to give to the prostitutes he desired in town… neither, of which, poor Leo could provide… and, as a result, Benny would become abusive, beating his son 'til he was blue in the face and calling him names such as "useless N****!" or "you Yankee son-of-a-b****!" Benny would not hide his heritage. He was a firm believer in white and South superiority, both of which Leo despised. He would take the beating with the assumption, perhaps, he was not only fighting for his life, but also for the minorities, and Union he so desperately wanted to be a part of… all he wanted was unity… not hatred…  
Leo somehow thought such a dream was becoming reality when his father brought home a black woman one night. Benny was sober, for once, and the woman he was with- nicknamed Maggie by him- was holding him by the arm with a smile on her face. The first thing Benny said when they arrived the night was, "Leonard, she don't look too pretty, so don't go ahead 'en make it look like we gone steady... this gal is only temporary, get it?" Leo nodded. He smiled, a little, knowing a black woman was in his house and was arm in arm with his Pop. It made him feel like his skin-headed father was really changing his ways… Maggie stayed overnight- Leo was well aware of it-, and left in the morning before he was up. Leo expected Maggie to be back the next night, and she was… but this time, she stayed…  
Benny announced to Leo the following morning Maggie was to stay at their house as a personal slave. Leo was mortified. He had not anticipated his father as ever being a full-time slave owner, but apparently the money Benny had saved was used to pay for Maggie. He found a man in town one night with her, offering to sell Maggie for a fraction of the cost he originally used to purchase her down in New Orleans, and Benny- cheap as a whistle- could not afford to turn him down. Instead of whiskey, Benny purchased a slave… it was one night Leo was not abused… physically…  
The abuse, however, did not end there. Benny still went out some nights to the bar, came home drunk, and beat his son for hours. The other nights were spent in his bedroom with the slave Leo originally thought was just love. The situation ran like an hourglass… back, and forth… back, and forth... and the only one who ever truly benefited was Benny. Such a fact left a bitter taste in Leo's mouth… consistently… and constantly…

Abuse, wealth, poverty, and care… words used to describe two very different Kentuckians on the brink of what soon came to be called, "The Brother's War"…

Elliot and Vanessa rode in their carriage on the way to town. Elliot made sure not to tarnish his suit, and Vanessa, feeling regale in her new dress, waved at the pretend crowd surrounding their ride. Elliot glanced at her arm around his, smiling.  
"You really do think this is important, 'Nessa…", he chuckled, keeping one eye on the reign. Vanessa laughed.  
"Oh, just because we're the finest lookin' siblings in Lexington don't mean I can't wish we was royalty…"  
"Lord, if Paw done get a whiff of what you're sayin', we'd be short a sister!" The two laughed, feeling the wind blow softly through the trees surrounding the dirt road. Elliot and Vanessa thought everything would be perfect today… until they heard a scream.  
"Lenny, you get goin' from that plow, fo' I whip you ova' the head with the back o' ma hand!"  
"Sorry… I was only trying to help…"  
"Yeah, yo' jus' like Mista' Drayton... pray tell, when a white man's son helps a slave in work, like it a chore!"  
"Sorry, Miss Maggie…"  
"Yeah, don't call me that…"  
Elliot stopped the carriage. He looked over his left arm to see, shockingly, a slave arguing with her master's son. Immediately on instinct, Elliot let go of the reigns and jumped off the carriage, leaving Vanessa worried, and frowning. He walked towards Leo and Maggie, treading through the sprouting cornfield around him. Leo did not notice him touch his shoulder from behind, and jumped back from the shock. He turned his head and looked at Elliot. Maggie, noticing Elliot right away, continued to work the plow, ignoring the two white men. Leo turned around completely, facing Elliot exactly, and frowning.  
"Ya-ya-yes, Mista?", studdered Leo, a little. Elliot, with a look of concern on his face, smiled sweetly.  
"Sorry to be intrusive, but my Sis and I are on our way to the Inauguration…"  
"Inauguration?", said Leo, questionably. He had never really been to town, so, naturally, he had no idea what an "inauguration" was…  
"Oh? You weren't aware it was today?"  
"No, I… shan't know what one is…", said Leo, slightly embarrassed and quietly looking down. Elliot smiled even more, patting Leo's shoulder softly.  
"Ha, ha! You shan't know what one is? Ha, ha, ha!", laughed Elliot loudly. Leo started to blush, kicking his feet in the dirt. Elliot stopped laughing, realizing Leo was embarrassed. He smiled again, looking at Leo, his hand still on his shoulder. "Well now, I can't have someone as young as you goin' through life not knowin' what an inauguration is! Pray tell, you'll come with my sister and I to see for yourself what you shan't ever know!" Leo looked at Elliot, frowning and arms behind his back. He looked at Maggie, who looked up at him, saying nothing, but implying the obvious. Leo looked at Elliot again, ashamed of what he was about to say.  
"I… I'm afraid I don't got much time spared… Mista…?"  
"Breckinridge, Elliot Breckinridge…", said Elliot, extending his hand out to Leo. Leo, unwillingly, shook it with his hand. Elliot moved his hand towards the carriage. "And that be my Sis, Vanessa Breckinridge… I'm sure you already know that name… Lord, she thinks just 'cause she carries the name "Breckinridge", every man, woman, and child knows her name!"  
"I've… never heard of you all before…" It was a lie. Leo, as isolated as he was from the world, knew very well who the Breckinridges were… his father would constantly be complaining in his drunken states about them and how they stole Lexington's money, or, specifically, "how them Yankees swiped the town's money 'en used it up investing in politics, instead of slaves". Leo did not have nearly as much resentment for them as his father did… it was more of an honorary situation than a hateful one. He wanted to respect his father's wishes of never associating with the Breckinridges, for reasons including both honor, and prevention of more abuse. He looked at Elliot. Elliot looked at him, and started to laugh again.  
"Oh, Lord, mercy! Now, you don't go about telling my sister ya'll don't know who she is, alright? She might send you to the plank, or decapitate your head!" Leo suddenly became scared. He held his neck.  
"You mean it?", he said, with a slightly dry throat. Elliot laughed even more.  
"Ha, ha, ha! Of course, I don't mean it! Sis'll make threats, but she wouldn't hurt a fly! Shucks, now! Where you been, if you don't know my family, anyway?" Leo shrugged. He really did not want to say where he has been.  
"I've been… around…" Elliot stopped laughing. He looked at Leo, very concerned.  
"Not anywhere in Kentucky… say, are you new here?", said Elliot, questionably. Leo looked down. Elliot smiled. He patted Leo's shoulder again. "Well, what kind of a host am I to ask all these questions when you haven't been around that long? Allow me to start from the beginning… howdy, neighbor! My name is Elliot Breckenridge!", laughed Elliot, holding out his hand again. This time, Leo did not shake it.  
"You don't need to do that again, Mr. Breckinridge… I know who you are…", said Leo, seemingly not amused. Elliot took back his hand, shocked a little, and smiled.  
"Oh, I see! Now, since we are acquaintances and all, I hope you'll be joining us this evening for supper at my home!" Leo's eyes opened wide. He had never been invited for supper before. He did not even know, really, what "supper" was…  
"I…" Leo started to say something, but was interrupted by Maggie.  
"He'll be joinin' you for supper this evenin', Mista Breckinridge! Load a' work gone get done befo' tonight, I'm sure!", said Maggie, waving her hand at Elliot. Elliot smiled.  
"Ellie Jo Breckinridge! If you don't get your britches over here this instant!" Elliot turned his attention to his sister and the carriage. He looked at Leo again.  
"Sorry… Lord forsake the day my Sis be late to one of her town functions… anyway, hope to see you later tonight, um... oh, I apologize! I didn't quite get your name! S'ppose Sis's right in sayin' I talk too much! Ha, ha!" Leo did not know what to say. He sighed, stuck out his hand this time, and frowned a little.  
"Leonard Drayton…" Elliot willingly took his hand and shook it forcefully.  
"Leonard Drayton… mind if I call you Leo?", Elliot said with a smile. Leo nodded. Elliot let go of Leo's hand before leaving. He waved at Leo, jumping into the carriage next to Vanessa again. He threw the reigns, and off they were again towards town. Vanessa crossed her arms and frowned.  
"Pray tell, what you've been talkin' about to that kid over there…"  
"Really, 'Nessa, it's none of your business…"  
"Oh, Lord, it is my business! Whenever any of you Breckinridges is involved, so am I!"  
"Ok… then please go about tellin' me why you ain't found the right man to marry!", said Elliot with a smile.  
"Hmph… you win…" Elliot and Vanessa laughed merrily as the carriage rode on.

Time passed very quickly by the hour, and soon it was time for the celebration. Leo and Maggie, finished with their chores, were standing in front of a hallway mirror, preparing Leo for dinner. Leo frowned as Maggie straightened his bow tie. He was not looking forward to tonight. Maggie smiled, patting his sleeves.  
"So… ya'll ready to go?", she asked cheerfully. Leo looked down slightly.  
"No… Maggie…" Leo turned around and faced her completely. "Why did you have to go and tell all them Breckinridges I'd be comin' for supper?"  
"Aw… shucks now, Lenny! Mista Drayton woulda' tell'd'em the same thang!"  
"No, he wouldn't! No, he wouldn't…", repeated Leo, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He could only imagine the abuse he would receive if he agreed to attend the Breckinridges' party in his presence. He scratched his head a little, moving some of his long brown hair from his face. Maggie patted Leo's arm, and turned his around to face the mirror again.  
"Ya'll have nothin' to be ashamed 'bout… there, there, Lenny... tell little o' Maggie what's eatin' your hide… go 'n… don't hold back n'w…"  
Many aspects of Leo's life bothered him… he did not know where to begin…  
First, there was his mother. He heard rumors from farmers his mother slept around with other men, got pregnant, and, after she gave birth to the child, Benny found out about her affairs, and forced her to leave his house, without her newborn son. Leo also heard from an even fewer amount of farmers his mother and Benny were very close, but did not want children. Then, after Leo was born, the family was torn apart, leaving his mother to run away from home without him in shame. Either way, Leo was to blame for his family's conflict and misery…  
Of course, his father's constantly abusive nature also contributed to Leo's bothered emotions. He was physically, and mentally, abused, nearly everyday of his life, and he blamed himself, too, for this… his father obviously had resentment in his existence… it was his only reason for the beating…  
Lastly, Leo considered himself ugly… he was never a pretty sight. Every now and again, he would look in the mirror, only to see a bruised, shaggy-haired, and dirty spectacle… and he would frown. He could not recall the last time he smiled from his appearance. Matter-of-factly, he could not remember the last time he was happy. Even today… even when he was to be a guest at perhaps the wealthiest family in Lexington's house… was he not pleased. He knew all his life happiness is always followed by abuse. More often than none did he know abuse sooner than happiness...  
Here was Maggie, his father's slave, asking him why he was so upset. His answer was obvious, but he knew, perhaps, even Maggie would not have the ability to comfort his feelings in the little time they had before the party… if he was even going…  
"I'm not fit to be a part of the Breckinridges' guests… I've got nothin' that'll make 'em want me to stay…"  
"Want you to stay? Chile', them rich folk don't care what you look like… you saw that young man come up to you 'en ask you to come! He didn't ask how much money you got in yo' pocket, 'en he didn't mind yo' name when you tol' 'im! Beside'… ya thank they be judgin' you the whole time? Nonesense! Jus' go out thayre 'en have a goo' time!"  
"Maggie…", said Leo very quietly. He looked down. A tear fell from his eye. He wiped it away quickly, covering his eyes to prevent anymore from falling. Maggie sighed. She grabbed his arms and rolled up his sleeves. She held them up to the mirror, exposing the many bruises on his arms. Leo looked at them, feeling very ashamed.  
"Now then…", said Maggie, putting Leo's arms down and rolling the white sleeves down again to cover the bruises. "They don't need to know about any of that… ya here? So, don't go about actin' all gloomy when they don't even know 'bout 'ur father…" She was right. The Breckinridges did not know about his father's abuse, therefore, it was nothing to be ashamed about around them. Maggie smiled, grabbing Leo's suspenders and snapping them quickly. "'En you just remember one thing, boy… don't think 'ur ugly jus' 'cause some'ne tells ya' ur're... believe only what 'ur heart tells ya, not 'ur brain… eye that lookin' glass, and you'll see… you'll see…" Leo looked at himself in the mirror again. He still did not see anything but ugliness. Maggie turned him around and kneeled down in front of him, holding his arms and smiling. "So… ready to go?"

"Of course, I'm ready whenever you're ready! I'm always ready for a game of checkers, Mr. Havensfield! Anytime you're up for it!" Elliot shouted exceptionally loud to Mr. Havensfield, a close family friend. The party was running smoothly, and everyone was enjoying themselves… except for Vanessa, who, after hearing Elliot's voice again, walked over to him and his companion quickly.  
"Hello, Vanessa!"  
"Hello, 'Nessa!",said the two, laughing a little. Vanessa smiled.  
"Hello, Mr. Havensfield… Ellie, might I speak with you for a moment?"  
"Sure, Sis!" Vanessa started to tug on Elliot's arm. Elliot looked at Mr. Havensfield. "Be back in a smidge…" Vanessa pulled Elliot to the side forcefully.  
"Ellie Jo Breckinridge! What on earth is in that little head of yours to be smoochin' on with guests at supper?", whispered Vanessa, hands on her hips. Elliot smiled.  
"Oh, 'Nessa… I can't help it! When someone like Mr. Havensfield brags on about how he's the best checkers player in the state of Kentucky... well, you'd be a drunkin' dickie not to go along with that and say you're better than he is at the sport!"  
"Oh, Lord, Ellie! Why do ya always have to be so competitive?"  
"It's in my nature, 'Nessa, just like in yours, there's a pompous prissy britches!", said Elliot with a laugh.  
"Oh, Ellie, stop!", laughed Vanessa, slapping his arm with her hand. Elliot and Vanessa quieted down as the newly elected mayor walked in front of the supper table, holding his glass in the air, and smiling.  
"Ehem… I would like to thank ya'll for coming this evening to enjoy this special get-together with me, and for making the right choice in the voting booths… I would especially like to thank…", he said, holding his glass up towards Mrs. Breckinridge, but he was interrupted by a murmur of voices whispering in the room. Everyone- including Elliot and Vanessa- turned their heads towards the entrance to the room. Standing there, dressed in brown slacks, suspenders, and a bow tie, was Leo. He started to blush, realizing everyone was looking at him. Vanessa looked at Elliot, recognizing the boy in the room.  
"What on earth is that hillbilly doin' here?", asked Vanessa with a frown. Elliot smiled. He walked over to Leo, put his arm around him, and faced his guests happily.  
"Everyone… this here is Leonard Drayton. Feel free to give this boy a handshake to get to know him better! I personally invited him, so let's praise his company!"  
"You what?", exclaimed Vanessa rather loudly. The guests started to talk amongst themselves, ignoring Elliot's request. Elliot walked over to his mother and brothers, who were near the supper table. They looked at him, frowning, and very confused.  
"Mama, this here is Leonard…"  
"Hello, Leonard…", said Elliot's mother, holding her hand out to Leo. Leo took it, unwillingly, and let go of it quickly. Elliot moved over to his oldest brother, Claude.  
"Junie, this is Leonard, Leo, Claude." Leo held out his hand to Claude. Claude simply nodded his head, refusing to shake Leo's hand. Lastly, Elliot moved over to his other brother, Ernest.  
"Ernie, this is…"  
"Leonard Drayton! I've heard about you!", said Ernest, grabbing Leo's hand and shaking it forcefully, and smiling. Leo was confused.  
"You… have?"  
"Indeed. Is it true you've been raped several times?"  
"Ernie!", exclaimed Elliot in shock. Ernest smoked his cigarette before responding.  
"Raped in prices! I heard your father gets hundreds of stock every year for twice it's worth! Now, don't you go about telling me he's making a living! If he really wants to earn his keep, you go about and tell him that little ol' Ernest will find him better deals in the market. I ain't got much on me, so maybe he's willing to take twenty times his stock and trade in time for the holiday… how's that sound?", said Ernest, taking another whiff of his cigarette. Leo's eyes opened wide. He frowned, still very confused. Claude crossed his arms.  
"Tch… you dumb donkey! Peter Drayton doesn't have a son. This here is that drunken Benny Drayton's boy!" Ernest's eyes opened wide. He smiled and rubbed Leo's head.  
"Oh… sorry, boy! I thought you were important!" Leo frowned. He looked at Elliot. Elliot smiled and walked him towards Vanessa. Vanessa, noticing them, walked away before they could reach her. Elliot frowned a little.  
"Well, now… isn't that just the rudest thing you've ever seen? Lord…", said Elliot, watching her leave. Leo shrugged. He knew of worse things…  
Elliot introduced Leo to many more people, but the response was always the same. Nearly everyone knew who Leo was, and was ashamed to even be associating with the son of a poor drunk. Eventually, Elliot left Leo to fend for himself, which was especially difficult, because neither of them knew Leo had astigmatism…  
Leo knew of nothing better to do than get something to eat. He walked over to the supper table, and, not realizing his sleeve button caught the table cloth, started to gather a plate full of food. A tear was heard, and everyone looked at the table to see Leo's sleeve button connected to a piece of torn cloth and food all over the ground. Leo faced everyone, causing the entire table cloth to be pulled off, along with all the food. Leo fell down from the impact of the dishes on his back. The guests stared at him, speechless. Vanessa, seeing the display, lost control of her emotions and screamed.  
"You idiot!", she exclaimed, her hands in fists. Leo attempted to stand up, but could not… he fell back into the mess, and was now covered in food. Everyone suddenly started to laugh. Elliot ran to Leo from the back of the room where he was at. He kneeled down beside him and followed the cloth to Leo's sleeve button. Elliot tore it off, also tearing off a piece of Leo's sleeve. Leo got up quickly and ran out the back door in embarrassment, not before Elliot caught a glimpse of the bruises on Leo's arm...  
Ernest and Claude, laughing with the others, called Leo names as he ran. "Dixie coward! American a-wall! Ha, ha, ha!" Elliot, furious, stood up and looked at his brothers in anger.  
"Stop it… stop calling him those names…", he said, his hands in fists. He recalled a time when his father had called an auctioneer those names when they were on a trip to New Orleans.  
"Oh? Then would you prefer it if we called him what he really is? Bastard!", exclaimed Ernest with a laugh. Elliot, with no self-control, ran towards Ernest and punched him in the face forcefully. Ernest fell into his mother and Claude's arms, wiped the blood off his face, and tried to stand up angrily. "Why, you little…" Elliot backed up as his mother and brother tried to control Ernest. Elliot was very angry, and was shocked he even punched his brother. Ernest was angry, too, and wanted to give Elliot what he deserved for his conduct. "You dumb coward... you dumb coward! What makes you think you have the right to forsake your kin to defend trash? What kind of a brother are you? WHAT KIND OF A BROTHER ARE YOU?", screamed Ernest, blood still streaming down his face. Elliot took a few more steps back. He turned around quickly and closed his eyes. He ran in the direction of the back door. He opened the door and ran outside. He looked for Leo instantly, but could not find him. After a few seconds, he sighed, and walked back into the house. Little did he know, poor Leo was leaning against a wall, breathing heavily, and aware of everything going on prior to Elliot's plight outside…

Elliot met Leo the next day. Leo was sitting in a grassy field between their houses, looking at the sky… Elliot followed him secretively from his house… he waited a few minutes before approaching Leo from behind… Leo already knew he was there…  
"I can't leave… not now… not eva'…", said Leo, looking down, loud enough for Elliot to hear. Elliot, shocked a little, walked up to Leo some more.  
"I… don't know what you're gettin' at… Leo…", said Elliot quietly. He sat next to Leo on the grass. Leo looked up at the sky again.  
"It's not like I don't wanna leave… all them folks 'round here think I'm a Dixie coward, anyways…"  
"He, he… you're not the only one…", said Elliot with a laugh. Leo shrugged. Elliot looked up at the sky, smiling. "Ha, ha… isn't it funny? You know, the word, 'coward'? They act as though it has two meanings… one, someone who runs away from trouble, as you did… and two, someone who throws a punch at someone because they dislike what that person has to say, in place of sortin' it out diplomatically... honestly, I think a coward has three meanings… those two, and someone who says or does something to hurt another person because they can't face their problem without taking it out on him…" Leo looked at Elliot.  
"You… how did you…"  
"I saw the bruises…" Elliot looked down and closed his eyes, frowning a little. "I… can't say I know what it's like to be abused, other than that it hurts a person pretty bad… my… father used to hurt me pretty bad, I guess…", said Elliot, trying to hold back tears.  
"You?" Elliot nodded.  
"He would say I was no good, and call me names… a regular name-caller… but he never hit me…"  
"It… isn't that bad…"  
"No… it isn't… but my father, your father… they both are the same thing… cowards… afraid to face the world at their life's expense…" Elliot looked up at the sky again. "I've been meaning to ask you, Leo… if you could… be courageous… put your life on the line… what would you defend?"  
"My country…"  
"Huh?", said Elliot, surprised by Leo's quick response. Leo looked at the sky.  
"I would defend my country… my beliefs… the people who, I'm sure, have tried so hard to… not… be afraid…", said Leo, starting to cry. He wiped the tears from his eyes. He sniffed, looking down, and looking up at the clouds again. "Maggie's people… the slaves… as long as they are suffering, why should I… an abused… poor son of a drunken man… feel sorry for myself and my miserable life? I don't deserve what I'm gettin', but that's only me, only my life… for generations, they've suffered! If I… if I ever get the chance to speak up for them… I will… if I ever get the chance to fight for their freedom… I will… and if it all means losing my life for them to be free… I will die with a smile on my face and for once… for once… I'll be happy that I ever lived through it all…" Elliot was speechless. Leo, the son of a drunk, really did have morals… and he agreed wholeheartedly with his side.  
"Too bad more Kentuckians aren't like you, Leo... as long as this state is on the border, the gap between slavery and freedom for all, black or white, is wide… I've… heard stories about a man named Lincoln who wants to help the slaves… maybe… maybe if he's elected, the slaves will be freed from their masters…"  
"Don't think about it like that… a lot of people in the South hate slaves, an' don't want 'em to be free… if this, Lincoln becomes our country's leader, chances are we'll go to war…"  
"If that happens, which side would you be fighting on, Leo?" Leo looked at Elliot.  
"His side…"

Elliot and Leo continued to meet and talk about an assortment of topics. The two soon became good friends.

Little did they know, in just two years… their lives would change and be put on the line… one of them, perhaps… for good…


	2. Chapter 2: Gray and Blue

Abraham Lincoln was elected, and, as Leo predicted, war began…  
It was 1861…

Elliot Breckinridge looked out the window and sighed. It was a clear and beautiful summer afternoon in Lexington. Throughout the state- as he was well aware of, because his father was a senator- news of separation and war loomed and spread like a wildfire… and he was in the mist of it…  
Elliot had been desiring to attend college since he was young. It was considered necessary, in his family, to get a proper education, and, with high academic marks, attend college. Elliot knew in his heart his place was at a university… but because of the recent national conflict arising, he did not have the ability to make the decision for himself. Now, instead of talks of colleges, Elliot was forced to listen to news told by his brothers, as well as read newspapers, about secession and conflict, Jefferson Davis and Abraham Lincoln, the Confederacy and the Union… everything happened so seemingly quick, in his eyes… it hurt even more knowing, because of his age… he just might have to fight in the war, after all.

Elliot shrugged. He wiped a few specks of dust off the window pane, and placed his elbow on it afterwards. He put his chin on top of his hand, gazing gloomily outside. He was waiting for his father to arrive with information regarding the war, as well as whether or not he wanted him to attend college or fight… for many young men like Elliot, this was a decision of life-changing proportions… if he chose to go to college, he would be avoiding warfare and the chance of getting killed, but, as a consequence, he would be criticized, and his family would be criticized, for educating, instead of liberating, what was deemed judicial. If he chose not to go to college, and therefore, instead, fight in the war, he would be risking his life, but still maintaining family honor. It was a difficult decision either way, one Elliot knew he could not make on his own…

The carriage rolled in. Elliot looked up from distraction as his father- much like Claude in looks- stepped out into the sunlight. He closed the carriage door and waved at Elliot in the window. Elliot waved back. He had not seen his father for months, so it was kind of pleasing to see him after all this time. Elliot stood up and turned towards the door, but Vanessa, who was already running towards it, pushed him aside and opened it to greet her father.  
"Daddy!", exclaimed Vanessa happily, her arms opened to him. Mr. Breckinridge placed his suitcase on the ground, and gave his daughter a hug.  
"Sweet pea, how are you?"  
"Just fine, Daddy! How was 'ur trip?"  
"Oh, swell… say… w'ere is 'ur brothers?" Vanessa frowned. She looked down, and stopped hugging her father.  
"Um… Paw… I think ya should sit down, so I can tell ya somethin'…"  
"Ok…", said Mr. Breckinridge, walking into the living room. He saw Elliot by the window immediately, and tipped his hat at him. "Howdy, son…"  
"Hey…", said Elliot, waving his hand slightly in the air at him. He focused his attention at the window again. Mr. Breckinridge sat down on a chair near the fireplace, and looked at Vanessa with concern.  
"Paw… take off 'ur hat…" He took it off, still looking at Vanessa. Vanessa sat next to him on another chair. "Paw… 'ur not gonna like this… but…" She looked down. "Daddy…" She looked up again.  
"Yes, sweet pea?" Vanessa sighed.  
"Ernie and Junie signed up for the war…"  
"What?"  
"They didn't want you to know about it… they thought you'd be ashamed…"  
"Ashamed? Why, sweet pea! I wouldn't 'ave been ashamed! Lord, I'd probably tell them to go, anyways…"  
"You would? But… Paw…", said Vanessa, almost in tears.  
"Speakin' of which… Ellie… did you make 'ur decision?" Elliot jumped back. He turned around to look at his father.  
"I… thought you were makin' the decision, Paw…", said Elliot, quietly and looking to the side. Mr. Breckinridge smiled.  
"Aw… come now… I told ya to decide for yourself what you wanted to do… and ya want what's best for 'ur country, so…"  
"Paw…"  
"Sweet pea?" He looked at Vanessa, who was now standing with hands in fists. Her eyes were closed and in tears.  
"Paw... PLEASE, DON'T SEND ELLIE AWAY!", said Vanessa, kneeling by her father and pleading in screams. "I'VE ALREADY GOT TWO BROTHERS IN THE WA-OR... AND I DON'T WANT TO LOSE HIM, TOO... I DON'T WANT TO LOSE HIM, TOO!"  
"Vanessa!", said Elliot, standing up. He was hardly heard in her screams…  
"OH, PLEASE! PLEASE, DON'T LET 'EM GO, PAW! HE'D BE BETTER OFF IN HELL THAN FIGHTING IN THIS STUPID WAR!" Mr. Breckinridge slapped her… hard… Elliot could not believe what his sister had said, nor what his father did… Vanessa rubbed her hand on her cheek, eyes closed, and still crying. Her father stood up, hands in fists, and looked at her angrily.  
"You don't go about sayin' THINGS LIKE THAT! You want the whole state of Kentucky to HEAR YOUR JABBER?", shouted Mr. Breckinridge. "Besides… what do you think you know, anyway? This is a WAR, not a devil's institution! There's a reason why these men are fightin'! It's not like they're being condoned for their sins in an inferno!" He moved his face closer to hers. "I outta have you horse whipped, you…", said her father, raising his hand again at her. Vanessa opened her eyes and looked at him, preparing for the blow.  
"PAW!" Mr. Breckinridge turned around. Elliot stood before him, clenching his fists at his sides, and frowning.  
"I've made my decision…" He nodded. "I'll fight."  
"What?", whispered Vanessa, still in tears. Elliot walked up to her and kneeled down beside her, smiling.  
"Paw's right… until now, I've been thinkin' that this war was just another way for the devil to claim lives… but… people… American people… are choosin' themselves to fight the flames… I would be…" Elliot looked down. "I would be a coward not to fight alongside them…" Vanessa was shocked.  
"You're wrong, Ellie…" She stood up quickly and pushed him to the side, running out of the room, in tears. "YOU'RE WRONG!"  
"Vanessa!", shouted Elliot, standing up, frowning, and extending his hand out to her.  
"Leave her be, boy…" Elliot looked at his father. "She obviously doesn't know how to deal with it all… girls like her are too young to go through something like this… it hurts them, deep down, knowin' their paw, or brother, or cousin, or uncle, might not be returnin' in time for the next spring gig… he, he… who am I kiddin'? They think we're all gonna die, anyway... boy?"  
"Yes, Paw?" Mr. Breckinridge stood up quickly.  
"You made this decision on your own... I hope you know that…"  
"Yes, Paw… I know it…" Mr. Breckinridge placed his hand on Elliot's shoulder, and looked into his eyes with seriousness.  
"This excuse you gave her, somethin' about being a coward if you didn't fight… are you more concerned about that than defending your family honor? Huh, boy?" Elliot looked into his father's eyes with utmost sincerity.  
"I shall defend my beliefs for the sake of the oppressed... through this defense, I will gain honor! For my country! For the people in it! And, if my family is honored… it will be a reward after the victory!"  
"Just a reward? Boy, you've got a hell of a lot to learn…", said Mr. Breckinridge, walking out of the room. Elliot looked at him, smirking a little.  
"Hmph… so do you…"

"No! I refuse to fight! NO, NO, NO!"

A table broke… bottles were smashed... and hearts were broken, all in one night…

Leo panted heavily after being thrown at a kitchen wall… he was curled up, innocent, like a child, on the floor. He glanced up at his father from behind his black eyes and shaggy hair. Nothing… absolutely nothing got through to him when he was drunk, especially now the South had seceded. Leo was pale and dark from the bruises, dyed red by stains of blood from his nose and mouth... and Benny, of all people, did not care…  
Leo started to stand up. Shakily, he placed his hand on one knee for support and made it up all the way. He looked at his father angrily. Benny came up to him, grabbed his collar, and forced him to the wall again.  
"Boy, you gonna refuse me again? Huh?" Leo continued to breathe heavily.  
"Kill me now… just please, kill me now…", whispered Leo under his breath.  
"THAT… ISN'T… AN… ANSWER!", exclaimed Benny. He started to bang Leo's head against the wall as he spoke. Leo slid to the ground, kneeling, and started to cry, hands over his eyes. "Oh, so you're gonna cry now, huh? YOU YANKEE… N****… SON-OF-A… B****!", he shouted, kicking Leo's head forcefully. Maggie walked in, carrying some dishes. She dropped them, instantly noticing Leo getting abused. She covered her mouth in shock, and started to approach him carefully. Benny looked at her. "Turn around, woman… go on… get upstairs…", said Benny in a soft tone. Maggie shook her head and began to cry. She continued to approach Leo. "Go on… I said, GET!", exclaimed Benny angrily. She came in closer.  
"Lenny… oh, Lenny…", she whispered remorsefully.  
"Get goin', woman!"  
"No…", said Maggie, looking at Benny. "No, I ain't goin' this time… no, Lawd! Not while this chile' is bleedin'… this chile' is BLEEDIN'!" Benny pushed her into the wall. She fell to the ground. Maggie put her arms around Leo on the floor. She looked at Benny. "He only jus' fifteen! Jus' FIFTEEN!" Benny pushed and slapped her again.  
"I don't care how old he is… this boy is fightin' in the War, like he ought to!"  
"He go'n fight for nothin', Lawd… if you send 'em this way!"  
"He's not the only boy with bruises in 'et!"  
"I don't mean them bruises… regardless, he'd be goin' that way… I mean, for what he's fightin' for! It ain't worth nothin' that way!" Benny slapped her again  
"You N****! My boy ain't gonna fight for useless black trash! Yeah, he'll wear the gray…"

"He'll wear the gray…"

-

It was 1861… Elliot was to be transferred to Virginia a few days from deciding his fate. He wished to spend his last few days wandering around the Lexington countryside, in search of himself… instead, he found someone new…

Elliot ran through a small forest near the Lexington train station. He pretended he was fighting the enemy, dressed in blue from head to toe and covered in brass buttons. He acted as though he were again a child, incapable of self-control when it came to play-fighting.  
"DIE!", he exclaimed, throwing a stick at a tree like an axe. He then took a step to the side and grabbed the middle of his shirt with both hands, pulling them away from his body. "In honor of your… honorary services… for fighting in the United States Calvary… I, Abraham Lincoln, present you, Lieutenant... no, I could do better than that... General Elliot Breckinridge, another gold star, adding on to your already five stars, making you the highest ranked officer in American history! What do ya have to say for yourself, young man? Well, I…" Elliot paused. He looked to his right. "Shush… quiet, Mr. President…", whispered Elliot, walking towards his right. He held his hand up like a gun, preparing to shoot someone. "I think there just might be one more enemy left to get… right…" He stopped walking. "THERE!", he exclaimed, pointing his finger and pretending to shoot someone in the light. He was facing the train depot from a distance close enough to see the station's platform. He looked up consciously to see his finger pointing at someone sitting on a bench located on the platform. He realized who it was immediately. Lowering his finger, Elliot could not let the image he saw leave his mind. He jumped up into the air and started to run towards the platform quickly. When he reached the platform, Elliot stood a distance away from the person he had gotten to know well in two years… Leo Drayton… but he was different… much different… than before…  
"Elliot?", said Leo, looking up at him. He was shocked to see his friend, especially at a time like this… especially how he looked… now…  
His head wrapped in bandages, concealed with a cap, was the first thing Elliot noticed. The second, which quite possibly could have been the first, was his uniform… Leo's uniform… a military uniform…

And it was gray…

Leo, realizing Elliot's mortified expression, looked down immediately, and started to cry. Tears, along with dried blood, fell down his cheeks in rapid percussion. He covered his eyes to stop the tears, as well as to hide his black eyes, with his hands. Elliot, noticing his tears, walked up to the bench and sat next to Leo. He now saw a gun leaning against the bench beside Leo. He frowned...  
"I… I…", sobbed Leo, flabbergasted with the way he presented himself to Elliot. Elliot started to speak, moving his hand towards his friend.  
"Leo…" Elliot sighed, and smiled. He placed his hand on Leo's shoulder. Leo looked up at him. Elliot saw the black eyes instantly. He frowned for a second, and touched one of the bruises gently with his fingers. He smiled again. "Wait a minute… this is just your lucky day…", said Elliot, reaching into his pant pocket. He pulled out glasses, and started to put them on his friend with care. "I've got a brand new… pair… of spectacles… just your size!", said Elliot with a smile. Leo could not believe it… his vision was improved… but… it did not make any sense. He touched both sides of the glasses, lifting them slightly off his nose.  
"Are they… for me?", he said, a single tear falling from his eye. Elliot nodded. Leo looked into the window of the train station at his reflection. He frowned. "I… suppose it helps… but they don't get rid of the ugly known as me…" Leo looked down at his feet. Elliot started to frown, looking down, too. "I… think you've noticed…"  
"Yeah, and I don't care!", exclaimed Elliot, standing up. Leo looked at him.  
"Why not?" Elliot sighed. He scrunched his shoulders down.  
"Because… because it's not you, damn it!", he exclaimed, turning himself towards Leo. "Why would I… why would I care…", he said, lowering his voice and turning around again. He crossed his arms, looking down at the platform. Leo looked up.  
"I thought ya would be angry…"  
"I am angry… but not at you… what kind of father sends his son into the military? When he's fifteen?", said Elliot, eyes closed and trembling. Leo stood up.  
"That's… it? I'm surprised ya didn't say anythin' about the color of them here britches I got on… Lord…", said Leo, sitting down again. "Lord! Why didn't I try harder? Why didn't I try ta make it so I'd be safe from this here color I'm in? Why… why am I so weak in the fist? How's he expect me ta fight for any side in the condition I'm in?", said Leo to himself. Elliot sighed and opened his eyes.  
"Don't kid yourself, Leo… you fought a heck of a lot harder than most boys your age do in a lifetime… 'en most people, 'specially Maggie… ask for nothin' more than what you did… 'en… as for the color of your uniform…", said Elliot, turning around to face Leo. "I said before it's… not you… no damn color's gonna make me believe you're any different from the Leo Drayton I know, 'cept if he changes… 'en… he's not gonna change his beliefs to fit the needs of the side he's fightin' for, is he?" Leo shook his head. Elliot smiled, walking over to him and sitting beside him again. He looked up at the sky. "You know, war is like school… it either makes or breaks us… I know… Leo… you won't let it break ya, or let their spirits take ya somewhere new… you'll… be the same ol' Leo I met two years prior, just a little more… military…", said Elliot with a laugh. He looked down, and started to frown slightly. "I hope this war ends so we all don't have ta fight, at least, one unnecessary battle in our lives… and so you don't have to go through more bloodshed…" Leo looked up at Elliot.  
"I've been through enough to bear more, if needed… but that doesn't excuse the fact that I'll be wearin' gray... you… might think it doesn't matter that I'll be wearin' gray… but… if I die… the United States won't remember me for my beliefs… they'll remember me for bein' a Rebel…"  
"I'll remember you…", whispered Elliot considerably. Leo looked at him. He felt like crying.  
"Thank you… Elliot…"  
The train came in as quickly as their conversation ended.  
"Next stop, Virginia!", shouted the conductor. Leo stood up, grabbing his gun from beside the bench, with Elliot standing up, as well. He looked at Elliot.  
"I… don't wanna say goodbye!"  
"You don't have to…", said Elliot with a smile. "We'll see each other again…" Leo smiled slightly… for the first time in his life… he walked over to the train, and took one step on the stairs. He looked back at Elliot, and waved. Elliot waved, too. After a few seconds more, Leo walked into the train, and took a seat on a bench. Elliot watched as the train left the station, carrying with it the boy he knew would never be forgotten…

Leo Drayton…


	3. Chapter 3: Together, We Shall Be

Elliot Breckinridge, a boy so young of heart and age, determined his fate the day he decided to fight for the Union... his family opposed, but remained supportive of their ambitious relative's decision, even if it cost him his life…  
After Leonard Drayton, Elliot's nearest and dearest friend, was stationed to a unit of his own, surprisingly on the Confederate side, Elliot wished to ensure an immediate transportation of himself to the battlefield, knowing he, too was fighting diligently for the Union cause… but his loving sister, Vanessa, pleaded with her younger brother, not to enter the Union army, at least, not until he had reached his eighteenth birthday, which, in 1861, was just about a year from Leo's departure… it would prove to be a year of complicated struggles, and overwhelming, devastating hardships for the Breckinridges, starting with the letter they received from Claude and Ernest's unit in Virginia…  
"MAMA! MAMA! There's a letter her from Ernie and Junie!", said Vanessa, running in her living room, smiling, with a letter in her hand. Mrs. Breckinridge, sighing, joined her daughter in the middle of the room after exiting the hallway.  
"My, my, Honey! Can't you wait 'til your father comes home to read it?"  
"But…", said Vanessa, looking down with a frown. A few seconds passed before Mrs. Breckinridge led her daughter to the couch with a smile.  
"Oh, I know how ya feel… we haven't heard from either o' them in a while, e'er since they was stationed in Virginia… alright… what harm could it do, openin' it a wee bit early before Papa comes home?" Vanessa, grinning, unfolded the piece of paper, unaware of it's true content…

An hour passed before Elliot returned… ever since his friend, Leo, boarded the train in Lexington, he performed daily walks to ponder the situation at hand, being the war effort he so desperately wanted to be a part of…  
Turning the knob of the front door casually upon his arrival, Elliot suddenly heard the distant sounds of weeping in the parlor… he quickly rushed into the house and turned the corner, to see, shockingly, the overwhelmingly dramatic tears of both his mother and sister, falling down their subtle cheeks to the ground… Vanessa was the first of the two to look up at her brother…

"E-…E-… Elliot!", cried his sister in agony. Mrs. Breckinridge gazed up at her son soon after, holding a lace tissue to her eye.  
"Sugar… I have some… bad… news…"  
"Mother, is this?"  
"Yes…", said Mrs. Breckinridge, both referring to the letter. Elliot picked up the letter from the floor, and began to read it out loud.  
"Dear Breckinridge Family…"  
"I regret to inform you that your son, Claude Breckinridge, who fought diligently at Manassas Junction... has been killed in battle, on the twenty-first of July!" The letter fell from Elliot's hands… instantly… his mother's words… conveyed the image realistically…  
"JUNIE'S DEAD, JUNIE'S DEAD, JUNIE'S DEAD!", exclaimed Vanessa, pounding her fists against her mother's arm. Elliot's hands trembled silently, in complete… and utter… shock…  
"Oh, Vanessa, I know you're upset! In truth, I never thought he would even… allow this to happen! But, Vanessa… Claude is in heaven now…"  
"NO, HE'S NOT! NO, HE'S NOT! NO, HE'S NOT!"  
"VANESSA!"  
"JUNIE DIDN'T JUST DIE… HE WAS KILLED! KILLED BY RUTHLESS MURDERERS!"  
"VANESSA!"  
"And to think…", said Vanessa, looking up at Elliot in tears. "YOU'D WANNA JOIN HIM IN HIS GRAVE!"  
"VANESSA!", exclaimed her mother, but it was too late. Vanessa, in complete despair, ran out of the room, pushing her brother out of the way. Elliot, holding his arm, still could not comprehend all of what had happened…

And the worst was yet to come…

"Ellie… ELLIE!"

Two months later, another letter was received... this time, from Ernest…

_Dearest Mother…_

The letter wrote…

_I am sure by now you have been informed about Claude's passing... I am deeply troubled by this, but it saddens me to an even greater extent when I think about the agony you must feel upon losing your first son to the bloodlust of warfare… I pray that you never have to experience the difficulties of dealing with such a situation again… I will try my best...  
Ernest…_

Two days later, a man in uniform approached the door of the Breckinridge estate… Mr. Breckinridge was the one to answer...

"I'm deeply sorry to have bothered you this evenin'…"  
"Yes, yes, it's alright…"

The man handed him another letter…

After reading the letter to himself quietly, Mr. Breckinridge walked into the living room, where his family resided… both Elliot and Vanessa waited, anticipating their father's remark in response to the letter he had just received…

"Elliot… Vanessa… I just received word from Ernest's Infantry… Ernest is…" The sudden pause and frown reflected Vanessa's action… she immediately fell to the ground, holding her head in her hands… screaming hysterically… Elliot frowned… Mrs. Breckinridge walked up to her husband, and grabbed his arm with one hand, also in tears.  
"How did he…"  
"Typhoid…", whispered Mr. Breckinridge, loud enough for Elliot to hear...

Elliot constantly thought… as did many, many families…

"Will the losses never end?"

At the beginning of the Civil War, in 1861, about 16,000 men enlisted in the Union Army, and countless others in the Confederate Army… by the end of the Civil War, nearly 700,000 casualties- seven times the original enlistments- resulted from warfare. However, like Ernest, the majority of the deaths during the Civil War were caused by disease, most commonly being typhoid and chronic diarrhea. Many died in war… even more… died in grief...

A year finally passed… it was 1862…  
Elliot, already making preparations after his enlistment, vowed to ensure his sister would not be crying once more… he refused to die…  
It was his devotion...

_The first of January, in the year of our Lord, eighteen sixty-two_

Dear Mother, Father, and Vanessa…

I am very fortunate to be a part of this war. Today, after being stationed to Calhoun, I became one of the first members of the Twenty-Fifth Kentucky Infantry. The membership seems quite the accomplishment.  
My superior officers have been discussing our next move. I suppose we should be transferring east in the next month or so. They take ever so long to make up their minds!  
To limit your boredom in such activities of no interest, I shall refrain from discussing my next movements, and emphasize, rather, on life in the camp. Well, I shall begin by saying… it is miserable…  
I mean, do not get me wrong! The scheme of things is rather profound! You see, our camps are laid out in a rather gridded, fixed pattern of the sorts, with officers' quarters at the front end of each street, and enlisted men's quarters aligned to the rear. Our camp is seemingly defined, compared to the stories I have heard from the men. Apparently, regulations are not entirely met in other camps, like, in facilities being positioned incorrectly, and so forth. I also heard in Southern camps, the ground gets very muddy for half the year, and then turns to dust for the other half. My allergies might perk up when we move closer to the Southern lines… tell Mama to send me a tissue, 'Nessa!  
The sleeping arrangements of number Twenty-Five are very extraordinary. We sleep in these canvas tents, nicknamed 'Sibley' after their creator. Each tent is a mere eighteen feet in diameter and twelve feet tall, supported by a center pole. There is a cone-shaped stove for heat, clearly not preventative of the cold from the circular opening at the top, used for ventilation. I would say a maximum of a dozen men would reside in here comfortably. In reality, there reside nineteen other men in this small, cramped up abode. Even now, I find it difficult to write to you comfortably, so I choose to write my letters outside, where it is surprisingly pleasant, even in the cold winds of the afternoon.  
My average day as a Union soldier begins at approximately six in the morning, when I am awakened by reveille. My first sergeant takes the roll call, and then we eat our meal, if one dares even to call it that… breakfast changes daily… today, we 'enjoyed' bread, molded on the tips, and coffee. For supper, we ate hardtack, beans, salt pork, and water. Never have I ever appreciated the taste of Mama's homemade cooking… it sure beats the food they serve up here!  
After breakfast, the men and I occupy ourselves, unwillingly, with about five drill sessions per day, lasting two hours each. Here, our drill sergeants teach us how to shoot our weapons and perform various maneuvers. Do not let Mama see this, but… I nearly broke my leg trying to maneuver around a ditch the other night. Since then, I have been vey careful, rest assured.  
Aside from 'drills, drills, and drills', us men are put in charge of an assortment of side jobs. Daily, my pal and I, Sam, gather wood in a nearby forest for cooking and heating. Other men clean the camp, and dig trenches for latrines. Without them, one could not begin to imagine the stench surrounding the Sibley's on a daily basis! There are also those- and I find them very deserving of appreciation- who search for clean water around the premises. Please… do not show Mama, or Vanessa this, either, but… I am especially grateful they are doing this, because of what had happened to Ernest, God rest his soul.  
The work here is gruesome, yet one cannot expect any less from an army camp. The real hardship, aside from the labor, is indefinitely boredom. The days drag endlessly! Actually, I have just started to find recreational outlets, one primarily being, watching the older men play cards. Yes, it is quite simple, but great fun, nonetheless! Jim, or 'Jimmy', as the boys call him, is the dealer. He is a strong man of about thirty, and he wears his brown beard proud! I listen to him tell stories about his days in war, and, to Mama's pleasure, he only swears when he has had too much to drink. I know exactly what you are thinking, Mama… no, I do not drink… not even after payday, like the rest of the men.  
Sam curses drinking, too. He even told me the recipe Jimmy uses to make liquor- bark juice, tar-water, turpentine, brown sugar, lamp oil, and alcohol. Believe me when I say I have never taken a sip of his moonshine… just… only once prior to my discovery of it's contents…  
I am afraid, aside from all this hard work and awful conditions, that I am suffering from homesickness most of all. I find it impossible that I will ever receive a furlough, so, hopefully, I will be missing my family more than they will miss me. Pray sincerely for my safe return, when the war is over, granted my full-fledged proclamation and gratitude towards my family cities away. I love you whole-heartedly, now and forever. May the waves on the river and winds from the South bring you great refuge.

Sincerely Yours,  
Elliot

Elliot, like many soldiers during the Civil War, wrote letters addressed to home. Others… like Leonard Drayton… recorded his or her thoughts in a diary…  
The twenty-third of December, in the year of our Lord, eighteen sixty-one…

_Dear Diary…_

Approximately eighty-five days from today, the Seventh Regiment Kentucky Infantry was formed. Since then, we have been moving diligently into the battlefield… I am fortunate to have survived…  
I continuously recall the day I… joined up… for it seems to be the only pleasant day in all the many days I have been a part of the Confederacy. Hickman County is beautiful during the summer… I hope we will never leave…  
I currently am assigned at Camp Burnett, eight miles east of Columbus, Kentucky. I am a member of Company C.  
My commanding officer is Colonel Wickliffe. I hardly ever see him, but have fortunately heard several stories about him from my closest companion, George Wilds. He is fifteen years of age, like me. Apparently, joining up at such a young age is common, because it is often not regulated.  
Anyway, back to Colonel Wickliffe. George explained to me what had happened a month ago, in regards to the Colonel's immediate action to a threat. Apparently, General Grant, a Union commander, was leading his troops in Cairo, Illinois, while General Polk, our general, was commanding in Columbus, Kentucky. General Grant proposed a sneak attack on the Rebels, to capture a Confederate Infantry close by. At the time, Colonel Wickliffe, who was drilling us, heard the 'boom of a cannon and the rattle of musketry', and, being a graduate of West Point, knew a battle was on. Without waiting for orders, the Colonel rushed us to Columbus, but arrived too late to engage in battle. General Grant had already been defeated! Our regiment, unaware of the Confederate victory, arrived at the top of a tall hill in Columbus with the 'Lady Polk', the largest cannon in the Confederacy. General Grant's army fled hastily to river boats, trying desperately to escape Confederate fire. The boats drifted downstream toward Columbus. The fate of both sides was thought to be determined, when, suddenly… the 'Lady Polk' burst, 'shaking the ground like an earthquake.' Following this shocking array was intense silence. The boat pilots, originally thinking they were to be victims of the Confederacy, steered their boats away from the Confederates, carrying with them Grant's army. General Grant managed to escape sure capture because of an enemy flaw! What brilliance!  
George tells me stories constantly. He kind of reminds me of Elliot Breckinridge, he of whom could never be replaced. I miss his kindness, his generosity… hopefully this war will end, and I will finally receive the new shoes he promised me the next time we meet...  
I am looking forward to the end…

In February of 1862, Elliot served his duty at Calhoun. From there, he moved to Fort Donelson, Tennessee. On the eleventh thru thirteenth of said month, the Twenty-Fifth Kentucky Infantry, under the leadership of General Grant, participated in a momentous battle to take Fort Donelson. In the end, on February sixteenth, the Fort's 12,000-man garrison surrendered unconditionally. Fort Donelson was a major victory for the young general, as well as an immediate catastrophe for the South. The battle ensured Kentucky would stay in the Union and opened up Tennessee for a Northern advance along the Tennessee and Cumberland rivers. Elliot wrote to his parents, in response to the victory, "Father! Mama! I am so pleased to have been a part of this major victory for the Union! General Grant has received a promotion to major general for his valor, for, as the award is deemed in Latin, 'nom de guerre', meaning, 'Unconditional Surrender.' Please do be proud!"  
For a while, positivity tended both sides of the War… Elliot and Leo thought the War would come to a close soon because of it… but, as in all wars…

Someone has to pay the price…

It was midday on the eve of March thirteenth… the Twenty-Fifth Kentucky Infantry knew little of what was to come…

Next…

"Hey… Elliot!" The young eighteen year-old turned his head slightly, only to see his comrade, Sam. He thought for a minute it was his brother, Ernest, who had called for him the very same way…  
"Hey, Sam… my, you seem peppy t'day…", he said with a smile. Sam laughed.  
"Yeah… guess wha' I'd jus' heard…"  
"Hm?" Sam moved in closer to Elliot, and began to whisper in his ear.  
"Ya know 'bout them there attachments we've been gettin'?"  
"Yeah..."  
"Well, first the Thirteenth Brigade, and Fifth Division of the Army of Ohio… now, Shackelford attached our regiment to the Third Division, Army of the Tennessee…"  
"So?"  
"So?! Do ya know what this means?! We're gonna be in for 'nother major battle!"  
"What makes ya think that?"  
"Oh, Elliot… isn't it obvious? Shackelford thinks he's the cat's meow! He don't wanna have no attachments if it isn't necessary in the first place! Plus, I heard from some of the other guys that we are packin' it up in a couple days, and movin' to Crump's Landing!"  
"Crump's Landing? Are Rebels there?"  
"Probably, unless we're waitin' for the Rebs…"  
"What else have you heard?"  
"General Grant…"  
"What about him?"  
"The boys told me he's itchin' for another Rebel wipeout, and it's apparent 'cause, he's leadin' our Infantry from Crump's, that is, if we really are leavin' tomorrow…"  
"Did you hear if we're gonna be be engaged in fire?"  
"Yep… it's likely…", said Sam, leaning back, arms behind his head. Elliot frowned.  
"Damn… and we just came marchin' back from Donelson… we lost many men there…" Sam laughed.  
"Ha, ha, ha! Donelson is a fort! You think a little field battle will be loaded with Rebs? Naw…"  
"So there shouldn't be many casualties?"  
"Not likely… 'specially if we got General Grant in charge… he became a major, so there isn't really much to worry about, other than your hide…"  
"Yep…" Elliot, lying on the grass, looked up at the clear blue sky. "We… sure were lucky to have survived… weren't we, Sam?"  
"Yep, I s'ppose we were, at that… anyway, who knows what is to be ahead? Hopefully, this damn War is over before we reach another tick on the death toll… at least, from this Infantry…"  
"Yeah… or theirs…"  
"What are ya sayin', Elliot? Ya mean ya want them Rebs to live, after all they did to the Union?" Elliot closed his eyes.  
"The way I see it, Sam, is that the Confederacy will continue to pursue us, if we keep on killin' their men… same scenario vice versa… now, if one side stops the battlin', the other side is sure to follow, right?"  
"I suppose…" Elliot opened his eyes again.  
"So, if the battlin' persists, both sides are really the enemy… and if it stops, both sides are in the right… the Union will always be the South's enemy, if she decides to persecute the Rebels for what they did… maybe I'm wrong, but to me, bloodshed is bloodshed, whether it be from the North or South… perhaps the South'll give in, and the North will follow… and there will be no more war, no more bloodshed…"  
"Elliot, you're the only dreamer I know!", said Sam with a laugh. Elliot smiled.

"Yep… but I'm certainly not alone…"

"ALONE? ALONE?! You wanna be alone?!"  
"Yeah sir, I'm busy…"  
"O', 'right! 'En hurry up! We're packin' and leavin' for Tennessee!" A man with a brown beard exited the tent, leaving Leo and his friend, George, in peace. George crossed his arms.  
"O', that ol' buzzard! I ratha have Gen'ral Lee hea tellin' us ta leaf!" Leo, after writing a few notes down in his diary, closed it shut. He looked up at George.  
"I got up extra e'rly to write, too!"  
"Scribbles?"  
"Yeah… my daddy's slave, Maggie, learnt how to read and write from her old master... she taught me how to write a smidge…"  
"HA, HA! Ya mean ya neva wen' ta schoo'?"  
"Not really… jus' for a few days… my father didn't approve of it…"  
"O'… hey, Leo!"  
"Yeah?"  
"Why ya think they're movin' us to Tennessee?"  
"I don't know... probably for fightin', I suppose…"  
"Fightin'? We haven' done much of that yet…"  
"No, and there ain't no problem with that, 'specially if ya don't want to fight!"  
"Don' wan' ta fight? Don' cha wanna fight, Leo?", asked George questionably. Leo frowned.  
"If I have ta fight, I will… I jus' wish… I… jus' wish…" Leo looked down. He did not want to seem like a traitor to the Confederacy. George patted his back gently.  
"Leo, we all ge' like that sometime… I didn't want ta join the Army, but I did! Ya know why?" Leo looked at George.  
"Why?" George smiled.  
"'Cause I fin'lly get ta act like a man! Don' ya, Leo?" Leo frowned.  
"Your reason… is much better than mine…"

"George Wild…"

The expedition to Crump's Landing, Tennessee, began on March fourteenth, and lasted until March seventeenth for the Twenty-Fifth Kentucky Infantry. This regiment, along with many other Union forces, set up camp at Pittsburg Landing on the Tennessee River. Everything remained relatively peaceful…

Until that day…

"ELLIOT! ELLIOT!"  
"What, what, where?!" It was five o'clock in the morning on April sixth, 1862. Elliot Breckenridge, just awoken from slumber, rushed to put on his uniform. It was Sunday, the only day of the week the Twenty-Fifth was given permission to sleep an extra hour. Elliot was not the only one startled by the early awakening from his comrades…  
"The… Rebs…", panted Sam, out of breath. He had woken up earlier for a trip to the latrine…  
"What about the Rebs?!", said Elliot, grabbing Sam's shirt. Sam breathed out heavily.  
"They… are preparing for an attack…"  
"What?!" Elliot rushed to the tent flap, immediately looking outside. Hundreds of startled Union soldiers were at work, preparing their artillery for battle. "How many are there?!"  
"An estimated fourty-thousand Rebs are headed here, in three battle lines…"  
"Three battle lines… DAMN!" Elliot turned around. "THAT'LL WIPEOUT HALF OF THE UNION ARMY!"  
"No… it'll wipe out more than half… General Grant just attached a few more regiments to the camp a few days ago…"  
"Damn… DAMN, DAMN, DAMN!", exclaimed Elliot, hitting the tent flap with his fist. George quickly walked up to his friend.  
"General Hurlburt is keeping us here until he finds out what's gonna happen... if General Grant's other regiments can't hold 'em… we might have to battle…" Elliot glanced out the flap again, watching his fellow soldiers hurry along.  
"We're on Cloud Field… how long do they expect us to wait? The damn Confederacy is approximately aligned with our regiment!"  
"But it isn't our choice! If we could choose, I know we'd go into it! We're just gonna have to follow orders!" Elliot glanced to the side, looking down, and crossing his arms.  
"Yeah… until they kill us…"

By nine o' clock, the Twenty-Fifth Regiment was already engaged… in fighting…

Ten o' clock… the Rebels had driven through the camps of three Union division… Elliot, carrying a singular rifle, reeled back to the river, along with his fellow blue-clad soldiers…

"PEACH ORCHARD! HEAD TO PEACH ORCHARD!", screamed his comrades, so Elliot, and the Twenty-Fifth, quickly ran to Peach Orchard. General Prentiss of the Union Army had a division defending on high ground along a sunken road. General Grant, seeing the position as good, ordered Prentiss to "maintain that position at all hazards."

Ten o' clock… the Rebel troops continued crashing and screaming through the woods. General Johnston broke through the Union troops in Peach Orchard on Prentiss's left… Elliot was worried… he began to shoot man after man in haste, trying his best, along with the others, to defend his country… the Rebels pushed back the troops on Prentiss's right… five Union men from the Twenty-Fifth were shot before Elliot's eyes… the division became smaller, and smaller… soon, Prentiss's division had no support…

Charge… after charge… after charge… twelve in all… each repulsed… with great slaughter...

A recurring blast on the eleventh rendered Elliot's arm immobile… he could not longer move his left arm freely...

Elliot, holding his wounded arm with his right, edged closer to the middle of the forest. His eyesight became blurry… he could no longer take the brutality, of this…  
"It's a hornets' nest in there!", cried the Rebels, recoiling from the blasts of canister and rifle fire, and the name stuck...

Several minutes before, General Johnston had been killed… General P.G.T. Beauregard took command of the Rebel forces…

Elliot, fatigued… fainted…

Three-thirty in the afternoon… Elliot opened his eyes… the fighting seemed to be settling… he stood up and, grabbing his rifle from the ground, pursued his Infantry in the back… he closed his eyes, feeling overwhelmingly tired…

_I… must… think of Vanessa…_

A tear emanated from the corner of his eye…

_If I… die… today… I will never forgive myself… for causing her to cry…_

Elliot, still baffled by it all, and wary of his surroundings… tripped over the root of an old tree… his rifle fell from his hand, onto the muddy ground... he opened his eyes slowly, assuming immediately he had been shot... of course, that was not the case… instead, he found himself face-to-face with a Rebel soldier… this time…

He knew it could not be…

"L-L-Leo?!" The four-eyed soldier looked up at Elliot from the ground. His glasses were cracked, so he could not confirm positively that it was his friend.  
"E-… Elliot…", retorted the young man, feeling immediate relief. He tried smiling… he genuinely tried…  
Elliot quickly got up from the root, and ran over to his friend, crouching down to the floor.  
"Are you alright…"  
"E-… E-Elliot… I… cough… didn't… expect…"  
"Neither did I, now tell me, are you hurt?"  
"I…" The young man began to cough brutally. The smoke surrounding them, accompanied by shellfire, had gotten into his already weak lungs.  
"Here, let me help ya!" Elliot quickly turned Leo's body around, his eyes now gazing up at Elliot… but it was not a pretty sight… Elliot looked down at the chest of his best friend, only to see…

A giant, bloody wound…

"L-L-L-L-Leo…" Elliot slowly moved his hands away from him… they were shaking in misery. Leo did not understand, for he felt nothing at all.  
"Elli-… -ot… I wanna… converse with you…", said Leo sincerely. Elliot frowned, trying to control his emotions, preventing them from reaching the ears and eyes of his poor, helpless… suffering companion…  
"Y-Y-Yes… Leo… what do you… want to talk about?" Leo coughed.  
"Elliot… I… want to ask you a favor…"  
"What… what is it?" Leo slowly moved his hand up to Elliot's chest. He placed his weak, cold fingers onto the jacket of his friend, and sighed.  
"I…" He swallowed, struggling with his words. He frowned. "I… don't wanna die like this!" Immediately… he started to cry. Many tears flowed from the dirt-blackened face of the boy Elliot knew so well. Elliot, who had seen and experienced nearly every horror of war… had never witnessed something so mortifying as his best friend, lying there… crying… and wounded… he began to cry, too.  
"L-Leo! I…" His words were staggering. Salty tears washed the dirt from his face. He could not look his friend in the eye. "I'm gonna help you... okay? You... you're gonna live!" Elliot could not believe what he was saying. The wound Leo had… a shot in the stomach… he had been lying there, stiffly and bleeding uncontrollably, for nearly fifteen minutes… it would not be long before his friend died a painful, agonizing death a mist the battlefield…  
"No, Elliot…", said Leo, shaking his head. "There is nothing you can do for me… other than…" Leo looked up at the trees, his mouth slightly open. A small streak of light generated onto the root behind him… he could barely feel it's warmth. Leo glanced at Elliot's chest, feeling the brass buttons underneath his fingers. He began to fiddle with one of them. "This… uniform… it is… lovely…" Elliot, feeling Leo's touch, gently grabbed his hand, and placed it at his side.  
"Yes… you mean… your uniform…"  
"W-What…" Elliot unbuttoned the brass. He carefully removed the jacket from his sleeves, and looked down at his dying friend. He realized now that Leo no longer had a jacket to wear… it had been confiscated for others to wear. Elliot held the jacket above him.  
"Leo… you said yourself that you did not want to fight for the Confederacy, that wearing the gray was a disgrace… you may have fought for their side… but you will not die for them!" Elliot gently lifted Leo's body, and placed each of his arms in the sleeves of the jacket. He buttoned it, up to the wound. "There… now… if you… must die… at least…" He could not hold back more tears. "At least, you are in the blue!" Leo moved his hand on the uniform. He looked up at his friend.  
"Elliot... thank you… even if I… had to die… even if I… died wearing the gray… I know… in my heart… that there is nothing I… could ask for more… than a friend… like you!" Leo placed his hand over Elliot's hand, looking up at him sincerely. "But… we're more than that… aren't we? Although we wear different colors… although we… fought for different reasons… we are still… together... I never had a sibling before… so I always considered you… my…"

"Brother…"

said Leo quietly. Taking one last breath, and smiling contently, Leo looked up at the eyes of his companion…

And died…

Elliot felt the cold hand of his friend weaken and drift away… his fingers became light as a feather… he knew of nothing more serene, and reverent, than the last words of his enemy… his friend… his brother…

Leo Drayton…

Elliot returned home on April twenty-fifth, 1865… there, his family awaited him at the train station in Lexington…

"ELLIE!", exclaimed Vanessa, embracing her brother warmly upon his arrival. Elliot, who had been through so much… had known so little of love… it was a pleasant experience…  
"Nessa…"  
"Oh… I'm so happy you're alive, Ellie!"  
"So am I, Nessa… so am I…"  
"Elliot!"  
"Mama!" Elliot hugged his mother, too. The warm welcome lasted for several seconds, until Elliot noticed an African American woman by the station house. Elliot pardoned his mother and sister for just a second to talk to her.  
"Howdy, Maggie…" The woman looked up at Elliot, and smiled.  
"Mista Breckinridge! Oh, I'm so relieved ta see ya well!"  
"Yep, I've been through hell and back, but I'm ok..."  
"I see ya got a sling there…"  
"Yeah… the medics told me to keep this arm on, but I kept gettin' it caught in one mess or another… I'm actually quite fortunate they didn't have to amputate!"  
"Yeah… you's very for'tu'nate, Mista Breckinridge…" Elliot smiled. Suddenly, a wave of sadness surrounded him. He remembered something, or rather...  
Someone…  
"I'm… sorry about your loss, Maggie… how's Mr. Drayton holdin' up?"  
"Oh… tha' o' man went off an' killed himself… got drunk one night… shot himself in the head…"  
"Oh… I'm sorry…"  
"No nee' to 'pologize! I lef' the o' man afta the slaves was freed! I hung aroun' for Leo, 'till I heard from the town'folk that he died! It's sadd'ning, ore so 'cause he died thinkin' he was unloved… I loved that boy very much, Mista Breckinridge… I… sure would 'ave liked to 'ave known if he loved me, too…" Elliot smiled sincerely.  
"Well… you can find out…", said Elliot, taking a small book from his pocket, and handing it to her. Maggie took the book and looked down at it questionably. "It's Leo's diary! I can't make it out too well… maybe you can…" Maggie looked up at Elliot with a smile, grasping the book gently.  
"Yes… yes, Mista Breckinridge! Thank you!" Elliot tipped his cap at Maggie, and walked over to his family again. He knew what it felt like to be loved by Leo… and he wanted her to feel that, too…

April sixth... 1917...

"We… as the Daughters of the Confederacy… are proud to acknowledge the many men who had fought, and died, in honor of their beliefs… in memory of their sacrifice, we dedicate this monument to the citizens of Shiloh, so that all may see, and come to pay their respects, to those who had worn the gray…" A red ribbon is cut, and the monument, designed and sculptured by Frederick C. Hibbard, is dedicated. There is applause… a little girl gazes at the monument, then at her mother.  
"Mama, mama!"  
"What is it, Sweety?"  
"Where's Great Grandpa?"  
"Oh, Honey… he's probably reminiscing…"  
"Reminiscing?"  
"That means he's remembering all that had happened here when he was young…"  
"Oh…"

An elderly man says a few words at a special place in the forest. He looks up at the sky. A few seconds later, smiling, he exits the woods, back to where his granddaughters are waiting. His great granddaughter races up to him. He grabs her in his arms. The mother looks at her daughter scornfully.  
"Vanessa, I told you not to tackle Grandpa!"  
"Oh, that's okay…", says the old man tenderly. The little girl looks up at her grandfather.  
"Great Grandpa Elliot, where were you?"  
"Yeah, Gramps… you missed the dedication… why did you want to come to this, anyway? You're not a Confederate veteran!" Elliot smiles.  
"I wanted to pay my respects to my brother…"  
"Your brother? But… you only had two brothers, and both died for the Union!" Elliot looks at the forest, and then at the sky.  
"Yes, but…" He smiles. "In a war like this, we were all related… it certainly was…"

"A Brother's War…"

Beyond the trees, to a place beside an old tree root… there exists a cylinder marker, extending up from the barren ground… and on it resides…

A cap from the North…


End file.
